“Silly crow, trying to drink the ocean. You are not a sea bird; salt water is no good for you.”

  “So what is there to drink?” Cawnor asked.

  “Ha, ha, ha! No water for crows. Ha, ha! No water for you.”

  The bird began to do a little dance as he taunted Cawnor, hopping back and forth then side to side and back again.

  “What an odd bird,” said Tor.

  “I am a seagull,” the white bird said, still dancing.

  “Antsie, don’t encourage him,” said Rebecca.

  Antsie had joined the dance, mirroring the seagull’s movements. He pretended like he didn’t hear her.

  “Mr. Seagull,” she said.

  “Gaudio, Madame.”

  “Gaudio. We’ve come a very long way, and we are very thirsty. I would really appreciate it if you would tell us where we can find fresh water.”

  The gull’s dance slowed and finally stopped altogether. Antsie kept going, twirling his way down to the water’s edge.

  The gull bowed.

  “Certainly, Madame.”

  “Please, call me Rebecca.”

  “Madame Rebecca, the river lies but a short distance to the south, surrounded by the most lovely estuary.”

  “What is an estuary?” asked Cawnor.

  “Ah, it is a fine marshy place left alone by man. Lots of water, grasses, trees, juicy fish and bugs—almost as abundant as the ocean itself.”

  “It sounds lovely,” Rebecca said. “You said men don’t go there.”

  “Not much.”

  “Are there many of them near here? We hardly saw them on the mesa.”

  Gaudio smiled.

  “In an hour, there will be fifty of them here. In two hours, two hundred. By noon there could be thousands. Don’t get me wrong; the humans are not terrible. I particularly like their French fries. But they do get in the way.”

  Rebecca looked at the others.

  “I’m too tired to dodge men right now.”

  “I agree,” Cawnor said. “The river? Then we can explore this estuary a bit and find a safe spot to get some sleep.”

  They flew south.

  A sunray shone over the distant mountains and lit up a vast blending of fields, marshes, and small trees on either side of the mouth of the river. There was even an ox-bow lake filled with hundreds of birds the likes of which the crows had never seen. The new birds were bigger than a crow, bigger than an eagle even. They were huge, giant birds, and they were just waking up.

  The six crows flew lower. Aside from the giant birds, who did not seem aggressive, there were dozens of avian species in the estuary; some they knew, some they did not. Rabbits hopped here and there. A small deer bound across the flats.

  The mountains were blue outlines against the horizon. Somewhere back there was the mesa.

  They had come a long way.

  They landed on the riverbank. The water was cool. The smell of the ocean uplifting.

  Cawnor looked at the faces of his friends.

  “We’re home.”

  twelve

  Wisdom and Mercy

  Confusion gripped the flock as the morning’s first rays fell across the mesa. Most had gathered back in the field of the Purple Throne and were awaiting the flock leader. Instead of the flock leader though, Grall appeared. He alighted on the throne, which signified that he was speaking for Endrex.

  “Return to your trees. Eat your breakfast. No one will be mated today. Celebrations of any sort are forbidden until further notice!”

  The flock erupted into a jabber of questions and outrage.

  “What!? That’s ridiculous! It is mating season. That can’t be changed or cancelled,” said one older crow.

  “My daughter is supposed to be married today!” protested another.

  “What’s going on? We have to be told!”

  “Tell us!”

  “Is it true that Kraven is dead?”

  “I heard that fifty crows fled the flock last night.”

  “Silence!” Grall shouted over the din.

  Twenty officers of the Wing descended and flanked their captain. The crowd quieted down.

  “Stop spreading lies! I’ll personally punish any crow I hear spreading rumors.” He paused then continued in a less strict tone. “Look, I understand that many of you are upset. The delay in the mating ceremony should be brief. The reason for it is this—last night three officers of the Wing were killed by lightning; Kraven was not one of them, though he suffered minor injuries. Endrex is postponing the ceremony out of respect for the dead.”

  No one said anything.

  “No objections? Good. So just go on about your business like it was any other day. Go on now!”

  The assembly started to break up. Grall and the officers flew back to Endrex’s tree, which was already thick with the Black Wing. Grall took a place next to Endrex, who occupied a spot very near the top.

  “I told them. They were unhappy but accepted your decision.”

  “Of course they did. What choice do they have?”

  “A lot of rumors were already flying around, about the escape and the deaths. If you put off the mating ceremony for more than a few days, we’ll have serious problems.”

  “My son is hurt. His intended is gone, run off. What would you have me do?”

  “Respectfully, Kraven’s injuries are not serious. He will be fine in a few days. And there are other females; any one of them would be honored to be wed to him. Let him select one, so you can do your duty and we can avoid a revolt.”

  “Revolt? They wouldn’t dare.”

  “Over mating season? Certainly they would. It would not be successful; I would see to that. But it would make things difficult—very difficult.”

  Endrex frowned and scratched at the branch in frustration.

  “Kraven is humiliated, rejected by that common, dull-token tramp. And I can’t simply let Cawnor and Tor escape. It will undermine my authority in the eyes of the flock.”

  Grall considered.

  “What about this? We tell the flock that Kraven rejected Rebecca, not the other way around.”

  “But why would he?”

  “Because she was a traitor, like her friend Cawnor. They were all traitors. But in your wisdom and mercy, you exiled them instead of blinding and maiming them.”

  “Hmm, wisdom and mercy. I like the sound of that. Okay, that’s what we’ll tell the flock. But you know I have no intention of letting them get away unpunished.”

  “Of course. But if we tell everyone about your mercy, you can’t have them brought back here and punished.”

  “No. I’ll wait a week, maybe two, so that the flock starts to forget about it. Then I’ll send out a squad of the Black Wing—pick the strongest and most ruthless. I’ll send them out to find Cawnor and his friends. Find them and kill them!”

  thirteen

  Antsie Recites

  The next afternoon found Cawnor and Rebecca refreshed, sitting on the sand, looking out over the ocean. The temperature was perfect, the sun warm but not too hot. Hundreds of humans occupied the beach, but they had found a spot temporarily free of people.

  “Cawnor, you were right. It’s beautiful here. I love the cool breezes. The sound of the waves is so relaxing. Can we really stay?”

  “We can. It’s all that I imagined it would be.”

  “Gaudio said he would show us how to fish, but we have to wait until sunset.”

  A squadron of pelicans flew by in perfect formation out over the ocean. One suddenly broke ranks and shot down like an arrow. She struck the water hard, disappeared with barely a splash, and then reappeared a moment later with a juicy fish in her large beak.

  Cawnor was awed.

  The pelicans were huge, awkward-looking birds, but perfectly adapted to their lifestyle. Far from awkward, they were as efficient hunters as Cawnor had ever seen.

  “I hope he knows another way to fish. I don’t think I could do that no matter how much I practiced. Not even eagles have that kind of speed on the hunt.”

  “I’m sure he does. None of us knows how to swim. Gaudio must realize that.”

  Cawnor grinned at her sideways.

  “I don’t know about that. He’s an odd bird. And that’s coming from a crow who arrived here with Wia and Antsie. Well, even without fish, there is plenty of food here. The humans alone leave enough behind for all of us.”

  “That’s alright as a last resort. With human food, you’re always squabbling with pigeons, and they are so dirty.”

  “You’re right. We won’t be dependent on anyone. And I won’t have you fighting for your food! But there is plenty here for everyone. We’ll need nests. Tomorrow, we’ll start building our home...homes, I mean. I’ll help you build yours first. I’ll build mine. Then we help the others. That’s what I meant.”

  Cawnor shifted awkwardly. The edges of Rebecca’s eyes wrinkled with mirth.

  “Maybe we could build our nests next to each other,” she suggested.

  “I’d like that,” he said, not looking up.

  Tor and Mellori landed next to them.

  “Hi. What’s going on?” Mellori asked. She looked curiously at Cawnor, and then studied Rebecca.

  Rebecca said nothing was happening. Mellori didn’t believe her.

  A group of seven humans tromped toward them. Two were adult women; the other five ranged from a carried infant to a ten-year-old. They strode right at the birds, who scattered and regrouped ten feet away.

  “Cads!” said Mellori.

  The humans didn’t understand her complaint and would not have cared if they had understood. They were busy putting out folding chairs and laying down colorful blankets and towels on the sand.

  “Yes, I’ve noticed the humans tend to cluster close to that thing, a pier Gaudio said it was. There aren’t as many of them further south,” said Tor. “What?”

  He had noticed everyone was looking past him. He turned and looked into the crazed eyes of a small human.

  It was a chubby three-year-old with a bucket in one dirty hand and a plastic shovel in the other. He stood five feet away and was locked onto Tor.

  “BIRDIE!”

  “Eh, move along!” Tor said, hopping a step closer and puffing himself up.

  The toddler smiled, inhaled sharply, then shrieked as well as any crow might. The adults with him were oblivious. He raised both arms and banged them down against his thighs. He took two quick, stiff steps closer to Tor.

  “Oh my, hey now, c’mon, watch it, kid.”

  Tor hopped to one side. The child followed. Tor backpedaled, waving his wings. The child ran forward, his voice building to a crescendo of unintelligible glee.

  Finally, Tor had enough and pushed off into the air. The child took one mad grab, missed, and fell flat, face-down in the sand.

  Laughing, Cawnor and the girls chased after Tor.

  “Where are you going?” Cawnor asked. “He just wanted to make friends.

  More laughter. Tor wasn’t smiling.

  “Fine. You go back there and make friends with it.”

  They flew back toward the estuary. They found Wia and Antsie, who was perched on the top of a cactus, gesturing broadly. A crowd of assorted birds surrounded him. When Cawnor drew closer, he could make out words.

  “...shift left, fly right.

  “Zam! Lightning flash.

  “Roll hard, blind rain,

  “Bam! Thunder crash.

  “Mosquito buzzing by my ear.

  “I snap at him, but he’s always

  “gone, gone, gone.”

  Antsie finished and covered his head with both wings. The gathered birds applauded with a mixture of calls the like of which Cawnor had never before heard. Several birds appeared positively awed by Antsie’s performance.

  “By Corvus, what is going on?” Cawnor asked.

  Antsie looked up and smiled. “I was entertaining our new friends with a new poem. It’s inspired by our escape from the flock, but it’s impressionistic at the same time.”

  Cawnor had no idea what that meant, nor did he care.

  “Our new friends?”

  “Sure. Cawnor, these are the guys—except for the ones who are girls. Guys, this is Cawnor.”

  “Hi Cawnor!” cried the chorus.

  “And that’s Rebecca, Mellori, and Tor.”

  Now, birds of all shapes and sizes came forward to greet the crows. There were both land birds and ocean birds, birds as small as a hummingbird and as large as a pelican. There were white birds, green birds, red birds, and blue birds. Birds in the hundreds came forward to meet them.

  In the end it was Gaudio who pulled them away from the throng. The gull appeared from nowhere; he was just suddenly between Mellori and Tor.

  “Are you ready to learn to fish? I thought crows were serious, but I find you here hosting party.”

  “No, we’re coming,” Cawnor said, extricating himself from the hugs of an over-affectionate pair of gold finches.

  fourteen

  Swimming Lessons

  All six crows followed Gaudio to the south side of the river. Humans rarely ventured there as it required them to wade across the river’s mouth. Besides, it was more than a mile from the pier where they liked to congregate.

  Right away Cawnor noticed that there was a lot more beach than there had been earlier. He mentioned it to the gull.

  “Tide is going out,” Gaudio explained. “Twice a day, water rolls in; water rolls out. Crows too lazy. You sleep through morning tide.”

  “How far out does it go?” Tor asked, ignoring the jibe.

  “Not far. But far enough to let crows fish. Crows can’t swim. Can’t hunt like me. Best you can hope for is to check the tide pools.”

  “Tide pools?”

  “When tide goes out, water gets trapped in rocks there. Makes little pools. Fish and other stuff get stuck in pools. Crows maybe can get to them. Have to get here early, because others come to feed here too.”

  He showed them where he meant. In one spot the sand gave way to rock and over time the water had worn out recesses that stayed full even at low tide. It was early and there was barely any separation now between the tide pools and the ocean’s water. But it was there nonetheless.

  Cawnor saw hundreds of tiny silver fish whose movements reminded him of the speedy hummingbirds that had been common on the mesa. And there were larger fish, crabs of different shapes and sizes, starfish, clams, and more.

  “Here,” said Gaudio. “We use the big pool.”

  The largest tide pool was twenty feet long and fifteen feet across. It was anywhere from one to four feet deep—deep enough to be dangerous to a crow who couldn’t swim.

  They came to the edge of the pool and looked at it dubiously.

  The fish were right there, but still out of reach.

  “Maybe one of the smaller pools,” Cawnor suggested. “I saw one I think we can handle over—“

  “No. This one,” Gaudio insisted. “You are land birds who want to be ocean birds. Want to eat lots of fish, right? So, you are going to learn to handle the water. Crows can’t swim; crows learn to swim. It’s smart, no?”

  Cawnor couldn’t come up with a counter for Gaudio’s argument. He did want to be by the water; therefore, he shouldn’t be afraid of it.

  Gaudio dove in. He sped under the water like a dart and popped up on the opposite side, a small, silver fish in his mouth. He sucked the fish down in one quick gulp, while floating easily upon the water.

  Cawnor marveled at the way the water just beaded and rolled off of the gull.

  “You’re built for the water,” Cawnor said. “Your feathers are waterproof. You have webbed feet. How can we do what you do?”

  “You can’t. But you can float. And it won’t hurt you to get wet, even if you aren’t waterproof. You flew here in the rain, yes?”

  “Well, yes—“

  “Good. Who is first?”

  Cawnor steeled himself, took a deep breath, and—

  “I’ll go,” said Wia.

  Cawnor was relieved, but a little embarrassed too.

  “First rule of learning to swim,” Gaudio instructed, “don’t panic. If you go under, relax. Use your wings gently. You’ll float back to the surface.”

  With no hesitation, Wia jumped in, feet first.

  She sank immediately.

  Almost as fast as she went under, her head reappeared. She coughed a little, then took a deep breath. Her wings broke free, and she slapped them flat against the surface of the water then just let her body follow. Next, she tried to float as Gaudio was. But where the gull was effortless, she was wobbly—very wobbly. Once she spread her wings and it seemed like she was going to try and get back on land but didn’t. Instead, she settled down and soon was floating, not perfectly, but under control.

  There was screeched applause.

  Several gulls had come to the pool to feed. But when they arrived and found crows trying to swim, they settled in for the show.

  “It’s difficult to maintain myself like this,” Wia said.

  “Try to move about using your feet as paddles,” said Gaudio.

  “It isn’t working. Our feet aren’t built for this. Wait. If I hold all of my talons together, it works a little better.”

  It was true. Wia slowly moved across the pool. She shook with exertion.

  She made her way back to the shore, where Mellori and Rebecca helped her up.

  She hadn’t gotten any fish, but she had done what maybe no other crow had ever done; Wia had swam.

  Before Cawnor could go, Antsie jumped in.

  Rather than be annoyed, Cawnor took some time to study the gulls. There were a few floating in the tide pool now, and more lining the edge. He looked closely at their feet, and how the seabirds used the webbing not only to propel themselves, but to balance as well.

  Looking around, he spied something green at the top of the rocks that separated the beach from the estuary. Cawnor backed away from the spectacle of Antsie and made the tiny, jumping flight to the spot.

  The plant was scrub-like and tough with thick, waxy leaves that were spade-shaped—not unlike the feet of a gull.

 

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